Long Cradle Poems
Long Cradle Poems. Below are the most popular long Cradle by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cradle poems by poem length and keyword.
I would like to find something, perhaps
a metaphor or a simile that would surprise
and cut through the torpor, some volt laden
charge of insight to jolt a nerve or to set
a synapse off into a spasm.
I would even settle for the last dying
embers of a vision left smoldering
by a Prophet or a Sharman high on fungi,
to cradle and bring back a spark to light
the dark pit of a numbing indifference.
But the evening washes out almost
to the point of exhaustion as I picture
seaweed endlessly clawing at rocks
like the fingers of a drowning soul,
senseless, disconnected, yet unable to let go.
Then this.
I
Dear Alex Shade,
Why are you so down?
The day is new,
So smile. Do not frown.
Dear Alex Shade,
Where have you got to?
Your bed is pale,
Your orders are due.
Dear Alex Shade,
Have you seen the hail?
Your coat is here
On the clothing nail.
Dear Alex Shade,
What have you to fear?
I have moved home.
I might lose a tear.
II
Dear Jack Bowman,
I yearn through one way glass.
If luck tips you might know you are being watched.
I gave you my heart to cradle,
You flick your hand, scoff at my nose
And spit. Spit. Spit. Spit. Spit.
Oh spit once more and risk running out.
Save some for the next fly, I suggest.
It might be bigger.
I have left home to live in a house.
I am clean. Tell me you ache.
Please.
-AS
I set fire to the caskets of your ever-burning shame
Crossing lines that were smothered in yesterday’s rain
Holding onto words that scorch my spirits
My happiness to you living hell
Pulling me apart, smothering me
Telling me you love me but not showing me
You are like the first Twin Tower that fell,
Shattered and torn by foreign enemies
And I am soon the next to fall…
By the remnants of your grimace-laced tantrums
Shackled by your negativity
It is a wonder one can sleep at night
Feeling the dampness of self-pity you wallow in
Comparing and despairing… always comparing
I thought I knew you like a favorite subject
I thought I could be myself
But everything that is me is shredding you to tears
And I sigh, ached by your fears
Burying my talents so that you may stand tall
So that you can shine in the glimmers
Of my poignant fall of sobs and shivers
…
I lose everything in the wasteland of your dots
Quiet descention weighing the worries
Keeping them down and in a flurry
Crawling around me, feeding the decay
To never hear the voice behind those words
I love you… I LOVE YOU…
I scarcely know you
Kiss my shards that have once been whole
Cradle industrial waste because I can no longer taste
The tears you shed that are too fast for me to wipe
Burying me against the sharp rocks tonight
And you run away…you always run
That is all we ever do, you see
I am a happy person,
A content as ever being inspired by the galaxies surrounding me
Exhaling the laughter of my comrades
But there… in some dark distance…
I hear the high-pitched frequency of your tidal waves of envy
You can have my world…
You can have my fame…
I am heading to space,
Where I may find solace alone
And for once taste
Freedom from your stark embrace
Wanting me for yourself to fill in your space
Have you ever stopped to wonder why I am still around?
I care for you beyond light and sound
But ever for that—you hated, jeered and spat
Crumbled as you play the victim
Becoming an enemy I can only learn to love
So I hand this world to you
Where both of us have fallen
You can have my world—my words
But you cannot have me…..
-June 2, 2014-
I was born from the first spark
leaping between darkness and dawn~
a jewel-bright ember the sky released
when it wondered how to begin.
The wind shaped me from its longing,
taught me to hover between moments
so I could keep the world stitched
to its own trembling light.
Every beat of my translucent wings
is an ancient incantation~
a spell to keep the day from falling apart.
I drink from the throats of flowers
because they remember me.
Long ago, I carried their colors
into the empty morning,
scattering reds and golds
like seeds of fire.
They open now in recognition,
offering nectar as tribute
to the small god who once
gave them their names.
I am the keeper of swift miracles,
the courier of impossible motion.
When I cross a garden,
time bends to let me pass~
a brief shimmer, a myth in flight,
the world’s smallest thunder.
At dusk,
I fold myself into stillness
resting quietly
in the cradle of twilight.
Trapped in the mind's cavern, confusion reigns
the dark specter of death haunts,
in a night of troubled thoughts,
wandering through time,
watching a moon rise, to cradle darkness.
I watch stars split the night,
wonder about quiet separation of my smallness,
embracing the reality of being,
passing no judgment on its reason.
My mind moves across a sea of black,
filling imagination with purposed cause,
a reflection of what is and what has been.
to find meaning in a moment's splendor,
when a fleeting glimpse of love crossed my path.
Still, questions come without answers,
lips move without speaking,
words so visual are never heard,
they move towards their final destination,
where the heart is, alone, forever alone,
riding on moon beams of illusion,
hoping to arrive where all the answers are,
before death greets my soul,
on the cold winter of my demise,
and the black of night washes away
leaving an empty space in the heart,
where nothing lives
The power I yearn to catch
A surplus beauty overflowing hearts
Dew settles, sprinkled gently a wet blanket
Star leather leads me into unknown territory
My senses are imprisoned and takes my breath
Through a crack in the window I can see this magnificent
In a moment, soft breeze of the evening an amazing view
Hypnotised by the nature and it's miraculous glow
The image of happiness, on the menu this evening
Cobwebs of dream seekers hidden magic
In four chambers one corner dusty twilight appears
Under silk covers rising and falling oceans mist over
Back breathing from the salted well drawing a bridge of sighs
Under a cradle of moonshine drunken beams starlight
Rivers of jewels running down the mountain
Inside droplets our soul is set free
Dew drowning under the fountains
Of eternal beauty enveloped
A Collaborated Poem
Anne-Lise Andresen and Liam Mc Daid
27.01.2017
(01 - 17)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
With present great, O’ gracious hate
O’ hand in heart, neither tripp’d nor fear’d
Doth thine conquer, by thine of corrup’d lips
O’ Sicker thy pour’d thine sicken canst
Thy chanc’d on seated heart
Hath thy slate nigh single sinner hips
Wither’n hither if b’yond, where’n nought
With’n ernst wouldst prove best
O’er hung upon the dislocate
O’er hung ‘mongst the rest
O’ implor’d thine harvest
With thine of wicked hand
Thus thou shalt do, howst thou shalt plunge’n.
Murth’ing sex hold at thou’st darkling sight
Dost seem plung’d thou’n thy thick night
Night form foretold milk’d thine breast
Thou shalt b’sworn, bitter’n crest.
In swinish sleep, O’ grace of gurnish hell
Trammel’n surcease, deceit upon brow
Unknowest known, tak’n eye upon foe
How’st for, thou played’st most foully for
Give solely sovereign sway, sworn o'er swell’n,
Poison’d chalice, O’ in wanton fullness
Fall’n O’ fallace upon th’other
In punitive hail, O’ fall,O’ fail
How’st dare’st do’n all, O’
Doth crown’d th’thorn t’prick th’law
Thus thou shalt do’n, Thus thou’st forlorn,
Esteem’st th’privy procreant cradle
F’rapt fools of foolish valour
Succumb f’certain tongue’d desire, thou
Shalt reign ‘pon th’heavenly galore
For th’Christened babe
Wept ‘pon the cherubim whore:
“Great Glamis! Thou art shalt be, slain th’head ‘pon the Heaven’s decree!”
Hast form’d a kiss’n heaven,
Doth thou callst th’pure
Why hath th’crown crowd me by livid, in my stir
Ever hath thee crown’d withal
Hath borne a light,
So to withdrawal.
It's been millions of years since humans began the evolutionary journey of being. At the end of the age, our collective measure of wisdom will have produced many historical pages of needless suffering endured throughout the human plight from survive to thrive. And so it goes that we humans, possessing the knowledge and understanding of science and technology, ultimately chose to define our being as builders of great and mighty walls. Chasms of separation serving as our self-imposed dividing lines for us as individuals, as a nation and as a species. At the top of the food chain, given countless examples by many other species of the planet, we disregarded the value of unity to our survival. Foolishly, we built our walls between us instead of around us, guided by the wisdom of our greed and self-righteous justifications.
Our walls kept us trapped like rats in a cage of ignorant pride, where we, the last great evolution of the human species throughout all civilizations, completed the journey of being human, from the cradle to the grave by ultimately drowning in the blood and swill of a political battlefield!
Wow! This is a highly disappointing end of our legacy!
There's still time to change...the end.
The Language of Blue
Sinking into the lyrical language of blue
Prime layers of still solitude speak
With muted voices
In sapphire soprano rhapsodies,
Lines of bass blushes, electric flecks of neon fire.
Hear in dusky blue’s modal shafts of light,
The peaceful plaintive sotto voce
Set an indigo scene
In delft lingua for a pas de duex
With trebling hues lapis and arbot.
Blue chants a lexis, a cerulean chroma glow
Sung in tender tenor tones patois
To translate soft sky blue aqua idioms,
As minor phrases meditate on azure,
In prose text that wafts in periwinkle blooms.
Unhurried blue on blue in plain-chant paeans,
Whispers and bedazzles teal twilight librettos
Of cradle songs in soft celeste waves
Of cobalt midnight in the consoling,
And the mystic, language of blue.
11-3-21
Contest: Blue
Sponsor Mystic Rose Rose
Trebling = triple
Arbot is a shade of blue
Chroma means glow
The sky depicts the vast and massive cosmos,
lying in utter quiet and calm with an exosmose.
A little, joyful world is reflected in the sun's rays,
Supine in a bed of dew, a sleek tale sails the ways.
Space and the outer gauntlet are carved in the brain,
Earth has tied us to time, hiding in the hues of rain.
Light pours via trees, and calm flows on the breeze,
Life thrives in the trees, but you're scared to wheeze.
Mother Nature's life flows as sepia tones unfold,
Her thread feeds all life, from elfin buds to hold.
The sepia-colored soil weaves the life thread,
as deft views run from grave to cradle instead.
This microcosmic world springs into action,
Photons prompt electromagnetic reactions.
Every glance is a blessing to our soul's sight,
Soar freely in the midst of recurring plight.
Under a vacant aisle, the inner self may shred,
If Waltz and Tears Linger, Bliss and Pain Are Pled.
Detoxification is absent from the system's swing.
With the pulse of creation, I inhale an azure spring.
Ebbing into the river of life for the initial time,
Personally and in line with customary prime.
In a cosmic flow of microcosm and macrocosm,
As vectors are stout and wholes are sanctum.
1st place contest winner
Written: March 18, 2023
Writing Challenge - 'M' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Word Chosen: 10-Macrocosm